IC
by IVIaedhros
Summary: Ishida's Sephiroth costume might just be too good. Ukitake subs in as Orihime's guard and gets dragged into cosplaying. Now he's starting to act OOC. Or that too IC?


Orihime was almost vibrating with excitement as she pulled on the snug fighter's gloves over her slender fists. Feeling suddenly empowered to be wearing her hero's stylish, yet functional feminine garb, the young woman took off at a run, bursting out of her room. She clambered noisily down the wooden stairs of her apartment, taking the stairs three at a time and leaping over the final set of five.

Unfortunately, she wasn't quite as agile as her hero. Orihime stumbled forward, wind milling her arms before gravity won and out and she fell forward into a spectacular face plant. Or at least, that's what she would have done if not for her savior.

"Oh, Cloud, you saved me!"

'Cloud' twitched slightly as he stiffly helped the former red-head up, being very careful to not eye her chest, which had somehow defied all laws of nature and become larger.

"Orihime, Ichigo, we're going to be late," Orihime and Ichigo both looked over to where Ishida stood in the doorway, his wiry frame captured halfway between light and shadow. The young man's naturally black hair now sported extensions and his slender frame was clothed in a massive, gothic crimson cloak full of buckles and hand tailored pouches for ammunition. But even more striking was the wickedly sharp brass class that now covered his right hand.

"I know dude, but we're waiting on the old man," Ichigo groused, irritated by Ishida's continuous reminders that they hurry up. Ichigo was already pissed off that his hair off that Orihime had somehow talked him into going to the nerd convention with her and Ishida for some old game he didn't even like. That he had to dye his hair golden blonde like some sissy made it worse. Add in Ishida being his usual asshole self and, well...he sighed. He easily hefted the mock Buster Sword over his lone armored shoulder, tapping the light prop in rhythm against his shoulder. At least he got a cool sword.

"Hey, Orihime-"

"Tifa," she corrected.

"Eh?" Ichigo frowned a bit. This was just getting ridiculous.

"You need to get in character, Cloud." Ishida said in an angsty, raspy tone that made Ichigo want to roll his eyes.

Or maybe give Ishida a nice, swift throat punch.

Or maybe both.

A sarcastic remark was the on the tip of his tongue, but he held it in. He didn't want to upset Orih-Tifa (gods...so _lame_), so he settled on changing the subject.

"So why isn't the midget here?" he asked. "Ain't he and Matsumoto your usual bodyguards?"

"I believe Captain Hitsuguya had some personal conflicts," Ishida replied, forgetting to make his voice raspy, "and Captain Ukitake volunteered so that the guard on Tifa wouldn't suffer."

Ichigo ran his fingers through his blond(!) hair for the umpteenth time, awkwardly searching for something else to say. "So who's Ukitake going as again?"

Ishida was about to reply when the lock on the ground floor's bathroom clicked. The door opened and out stepped Captain Ukitake sporting an abashed smile; bare-chested and wearing only a pair of black, overly tight faux-leather pants and a single boot with the other boot and a large, black trench coat held awkwardly in his hands.

"If I could have your assistance please, Ishida, I…can't figure out all the buckles." Orihime looked a little startled and immediately reddened. Ichigo saw her and laughed. Ishida saw him and glared.

"I will assist you, Captain Ukitake," Ishida said, grinning himself, but not without elbowing Ichigo below the ribs. Bastard. But though bastard he be, Ishida knew how to operate his own costumes and soon had Ukitake's costume on and perfectly adjusted.

"You look great, Mr. Ukitake!" Orihime happily chirped.

"I agree, an excellent likeness," Ishida agreed.

Ichigo was just glad everyone agreed so they could hurry up and get it over with before his family found out.

Cautiously, the elder captain walked over to a nearby full-body mirror, where he eyed himself uneasily.

"I don't know…"

"Ah, silly me, I know what's missing!" Orihime skipped over to the nearby couch, reached way under with a hand and pulled, revealing first a plainly wrapped hilt, then the slender blade of a katana. She kept pulling, revealing more and more and more…

Ukitake took the ridiculously oversized blade, inspecting it dubiously before again eyeing himself in the mirror. Ichigo was about to offer a sympathetic comment when Ukitake suddenly whipped the sword through the air, the once seemingly impractical weapon coming alive as it blurred through the air in perfect, lethal control.

With an elegant flourish, the white haired man finished the kata and turned to face his astonished companions.

"That was, erm, very…cool captain," Ichigo offered tentatively.

Ukitake hmm'ed as he picked at his sword, a slightly disturbing glow in his eyes.

_...tbc

* * *

A/N: Along with the entirely separate _Precedent_, this used to be a part of _Tell the Long Road_ as a form of comic relief. In the interest of preserving that piece's more mature themes and getting a little more exposure, it will be it's own 'fic. Reading of either _Precedent_ or _Tell the Long Road_ is recommended, but entirely unnecessary to understand this._


End file.
